


Reset

by WritLarge



Series: The Top Keeps Spinning [4]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Background Relationships, Community: inceptiversary, Gen, Historical AU, Inception Bingo, M/M, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 03:38:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11592141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritLarge/pseuds/WritLarge
Summary: Dom wakes up both Before and After(3rd alternate continuation of "If, If, Fucking If")





	Reset

**Author's Note:**

> Another Dom is dreaming possible outcome. Can be read as a continuation of “If, If, Fucking If” Technically, it could be set after any time Dom has died, though definitely post-movie.

Dom woke, shivering.

“Aha! I knew this would be the one.”

“See? It worked out all right.”

“No, it fucking didn’t! Yusuf saved your ass. He’s been under for almost a month. This is why the PASIV isn’t ready for an undisciplined mind. He spiraled completely into fantasy-”

“Calm down, Cohen.”

“Well, I for one agree completely. And this is second time you’ve bollocksed it up and nearly lost a participant to dreamscape, which is why you’re on probation. Do recall, you’re only here as a courtesy, Mr. Charles.”

Dom glanced around, trying to place the voices. Some of them sounded familiar. He turned his head right and saw another empty bed. Christ, his body felt weak and heavy. How long had he been lying here?

“Where am I?” he tried, the words cracking. “Hello? Where am I?” 

There were no windows that he could see. 

“Talk to him.”

“I’m not his bloody therapist. You talk to him. You’re the one who signed him up for this, without full informed consent I might add.”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea, my friend.”

“Eames-”

“Bloody hell, all right.” A few footsteps sounded on the floor before Eames came into view. “Hello there. Lovely day to be alive, isn’t it?”

“What the fuck, Eames?” The man in question was wearing grey dress pants and a white shirt with a burgundy tie, sleeves rolled up to bare his forearms. What stood out, however, was the close cropped beard he wore. Dom had rarely seen Eames with more than scruff.

“Ah. You do know me,” he settled on the edge of the bed. “You’ve been dreaming.”

“No shit.”

“Do you remember when it began?”

“I-” Dom hesitated. He wasn’t sure. Things blurred together, the jobs, the people, even Mal... “Mal?”

“You remember Ms. Miles.” Miles. Not Cobb? Dom’s heart began to race. That had to be wrong. Where was he? “That’s upset you. I’m sorry. I realize it’s all muddled but in time the dream should fade. Do you remember joining the research team?”

“Yeah, I- I met Mal there. And Arthur. You and I didn’t meet until much later.” Dom hadn’t met Eames until after Phillipa had been born.

“I was overseas when you arrived and our paths didn’t cross until after you’d gone under. You’ve got a very creative mind, Mr. Cobb, and a remarkable resiliency of thought. Your dream ran rather out of control.”

“So this is reality?” 

“That’s right.”

“And I’m...” He was what? He knew his name, but what did that mean anymore? How much of his life was a lie, spun into existence by his subconscious mind? He had no totem left to check.

“Dominick Cobb, age 30. Architect by trade, educated at Southern California Institute of Architecture. Unmarried, no children, with the only relative listed in your contact information being a cousin in Fresno. Sound familiar?”

Yes... and no. 30 felt like such a long time ago. He hardly remembered his cousin.

“Why? Why did I wake up now?”

“You can thank our Chemist,” Eames gestured in the direction he’d come from, which must mean there were people watching them. “Yusuf’s been adjusting your levels. It’s all very new, you understand, and dreamshare resists every attempt at categorization, shifting wildly from one person to the next. It’s why the dreamers we originally selected were already in some way experienced with dream manipulation, trained in self-guided dreaming, meditation, and highly disciplined thought.”

“But not me?”

“No. Mr. Charles saw fit to accelerate your training period, independently, at which point you were thrown into the deep end of dreamshare and promptly drowned.”

“Fuck.”

“That is a very common feeling regarding the situation.”

“Arthur must be pissed.” Eames laughed out loud.

“Yes, our clever Mr. Cohen was very put out. There are several underlings who will never be the same, I’m afraid.”

“I bet.”

“Mr. Saito has been reorganizing access clearances and has, along with Arthur and myself, revised our protocols regarding participant training. Rest assured, there will be no such cock ups in future.”

It was sort of reassuring, but it didn’t help Dom’s situation now. His entire life had been ripped out from under him and something still niggled at the back of his mind, a realization that hadn’t quite clicked. 

“What year is it?” 

Eames cocked his head, considering question. “What year do you think it is?”

“2010?” No, earlier maybe if he and Mal hadn’t gotten married. He was thirty apparently. “2004?”

“Perhaps I should consult with-”

“He should know,” Arthur came into the room and stood at Eames shoulder. “It might help bring things back into focus. It’s 2041.”

“What? H-How long have I-” 2041? Was he really so turned around that he though he was living in the past?

“Not that long,” Eames reassured him, throwing a mildly annoyed look in Arthur’s direction. “Be a dear and fetch us some coffee?”

“Fine,” Arthur rolled his eyes, “but don’t coddle him. He’d rather know.”

He would, Dom admitted to himself. More information was always better, even when it was hard to hear. 

Eames sighed and fiddled with the panel on bed, bringing it up into a sitting position. Dom was grateful for the change. 

“Don’t worry. Any numbness is likely the drug cocktail still working it’s way out of your system. You will need physical therapy to get your strength back up, however.”

Okay. He could deal with that. But 2041? The more he rolled the number around in his thoughts the more if felt right. He shifted on the bed and the PASIV line tugged uncomfortably at his arm.

“Should this come out?”

“No,” a voice echoed from the other side of the room. Yusuf. “We can adjust your dosages through it, so please leave it be.” 

Right. He examined the walls, wondering if there were cameras as well. He hated the idea of being watched. Not that he could do anything about it.

Dom wasn’t used to giving over control to someone else, but he was beginning to wonder how much of his knowledge of dreamshare had been made up wholesale by his imagination. He had to trust that Arthur and Eames, and by extension Yusuf he supposed, knew what they were doing. 

“Now,” Eames peered at him intently, “sate my curiosity then. Did you spend all of your dream in the early 2000’s?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

Eames chatted away with him about the time period, the personal history Dom remembered, frowning a little in sympathy over Dom’s imagined family. It wasn’t long before Arthur reappeared with Ariadne in tow, looking impossibly young and wearing security badge clipped to her belt. Ariadne Karras, Intern.

“Thank you, darling,” Eames took his cup from Arthur. Ariadne handed Dom another. It wasn’t coffee. It was some kind of light broth instead. Dom watched the men, noting their ease and the way they leaned into one another. Oh. “Are we not what you expected, Mr. Cobb?” 

Eames had noticed him looking. Of, course he had. 

“Uh. You can call me Dom. And it was just, different. I kind of thought you hated each other.” Ariadne hid a smile with her hand.

“Ah. Terrific amounts of sexual tension no doubt,” he smirked and Arthur rolled his eyes again, smiling. All right then. That was a thing.

“Is Mal still around?” Arthur nodded. “Can I see her?”

“Yeah. She’s not in the facility at the moment, but I’m sure she’ll come by. In the meantime, you need a full medical assessment. The nurse said we could bring you the broth, but that’s about it for now.”

“I could bring you something to read?” Ariadne finally spoke. “A book or a comm?” 

A comm. A tablet. He remembered those. He’d brought one with him on the way here, in the self-driving car that they’d sent to pick him up... Huh. Bit and pieces of his life were floating into his thoughts, filling in the blanks as his memories of the dream became more unreal. 

“That would be great, thanks.”

“Excellent. Well, Mr. Cobb, or Dom, sorry. I’ll understand if you want nothing to do with us after this fiasco, but I do hope you’ll consider staying on. Your experiences would be invaluable-”

Arthur elbowed him, “Let him rest, Eames. You can give him your recruitment spiel later.”

“Yes, fine. We’ll talk again, we will,” Eames gestured between them and grinned. “When you’re ready.”

“I look forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> So not quite a Historical AU so much as an AU that sets the movie as being the historical piece. Cobb's subconscious mind takes over the dream and constructs a reality for him, based in a time period he finds fascinating (i.e. he's an architect and art buff that is fascinated by the time period he ends up using for his dream).


End file.
